The Riddler: Arkham Asylum
by Jade-Dusk
Summary: The Riddler finds himself in Arkham Asylum. How will he fare? Which familiar faces will he see within its walls? This is Part 3 of my series. Please read part one if you haven't already.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note: Hello everyone! Welcome back to my series! Please read and review and let me know what you think! **

**Prologue**

One year, eight days, and three hours Edward Nigma had been an inmate of Arkham Asylum. No one would answer his burning question: How did they know where to find him?

It made him angry, they could have at least told him that. Edward suspected it was his rage, and insults that caused them to simply deny him that courtesy of knowing. One of them even spat, "If you're such a genius you'd know."

Edward didn't take kindly to that. Edward didn't take kindly to much. Looking down at his grey patient clothes he sighed. His sense of style had been stripped of him. How he longed to look dashing in a suit, in HIS suit. He missed the question mark motif he made his own back when he was terrorizing the city. He missed the colour green, and how blue it made his eyes look.

His cane had been taken away and likely used as scrap metal. He wanted his things back, especially his hat. He still had money hidden away but sixty percent of it had been confiscated from him, and that was given back to its proper locations he stole it from.

It was all gone now, and he hated his life, and their was a good chance he would rot in jail if any of his victims bodies were discovered. On his court date he was tried as a murderer. Though none of the bodies of his victims had been recovered, the fact that they were missing, or claimed in testimonies to be dead, they didn't have enough to go on. Luckily for him, he had disposed of them in such a way they'd never be found, no one would look where he put them.

Edward Nigma was put in Arkham Asylum by the jury in hopes of 'curing' his 'madness'. They felt with the things he was capable of he should be studied. This at least put him away until they could find a possible shred of evidence against him. It kept him from harming anyone else.

Though they were right in their decision to lock him away, he was still angry. He was angrier than he had been when he was seeking revenge. Even Edward knew something was wrong with that.

His doctor was Dr. Spencer, an older man who seemed to run around Arkham as if he ruled the building. He was close to retirement which meant Edward would have a new doctor soon. Dr. Spencer often set him off in his therapy sessions. He denied any inclination Edward was a genius and simply made him feel like he was an average man with psychotic episodes.

Edward called him a 'moron' and an 'idiot' on several occasions, but more recently began lashing out. His more recent therapy sessions consisted of being tied down to one of the metal chairs or wearing a straight jacket which only infuriated him further.

Dr. Spencer poked at him, and rather unsuccessfully attempted to debunk the reasoning for his madness. Edward was non-responsive to his methods, and it seemed as some sort of a punishment he gave him different drugs that worked as a sedative making it hard to concentrate as well as respond to therapy.

Dr. Spencer put him back on his Paxil hoping it would cause a change of heart in Edward, but the drug continued not to help him in the least. During Dr. Spencer's last therapy session Edward made sure to insult him in every we he could possibly think of. The guards had to pull him from the room as Edward struggled with his bindings so bad, they were afraid he'd injure himself in the process.

Dr. Spencer never did listen to any of his riddles, and even if he had, Edward was sure he'd never answer them correctly. Dr. Spencer was sure to spread his distaste for the Riddler to the next doctor who would be taking his place. Edward couldn't wait to meet the new doctor and rip them apart as well.

**Chapter 1**

His skin was on fire. It was impossible to focus on anything, and everything was irritating. "Where is Alice? Oh that naughty WICKED girl... she's late!" Jervis said at the cafeteria table across from Edward.

"Jervis, not now." Edward ordered as he attempted to get down the runny scrambled eggs they were serving for breakfast.

Not only was the food awful, but his company was even worse. "But I want to know where she is! She's been avoiding me, and I have to find her..." Jervis twitched a bit, looking around frantically.

Edward shot him a glare. "I've told you every single day for the past few days, Alice isn't coming back. You killed her."

Jervis looked alarmed suddenly, his messy brown hair hanging in his eyes. "What?! No! No! No! I wouldn't do that!"

Edward watched as Jervis had another freak out, it was likely the hundredth he'd seen since Jervis was caught by Batman and sent to Arkham Asylum. "You imbecile... you know what you did, now shut your mouth and eat your breakfast. If I have to tell you one more time to be quiet, you won't like it." Edward forked a piece of sausage into his mouth, watching, almost challengingly, as Jervis whimpered at the thought of harming his precious Alice.

When Jervis said nothing more he looked back down to his half empty plate of unsatisfactory food. He didn't dare try the toast, or "cardboard" as he liked to refer to it. He used to enjoy toast outside of Arkham Asylum, but here it just didn't cut it. Edward pulled at the collar of his patient shirt, but it did little to cool him down. _What is wrong with me? These pills are making me feel crazy... I'm not crazy, and this is why I shouldn't be on them._ He thought to himself.

"Alice where are you!" Jervis suddenly shouted as though he forgot where he was.

Edward balled his fist and jumped up, throwing himself across the table as he struck the mad hatter right in the jaw, his large front teeth clenched in pain as he whimpered. Before Edward knew what to do next he was being restrained by two of the guards that regularly watched the lunch room. "Don't you get it you moron!? She's dead! You killed her! You killed all of them! You're too stupid to understand that!" He yelled as he was hauled off to his cell.

"Shut up, Nigma! You won't like it if we have to send you to solitary!" The one guard warned him.

Solitary. Also known as Hell in Arkham Asylum. No one knew it, but terrible things happened to patients who went there. Officer Boles, the security guard for Arkham Asylum, was known to the inmates as the 'monster' in the building. Sure, they had Joker in solitary confinement, and they other killers like Bane, and Zsasz, but Boles was a man who could do what he wanted, and never got caught for his crimes.

Edward had seen Harvey Dent come from Solitary Confinement with a black eye. Doctors at Arkham Asylum seemed to look the other way, deciding the patients' wounds were self-inflicted. The last thing Edward wanted to do was wind up there after a tough guy like Harvey had taken such gruesome blows.

Angrily Edward growled as they forced him into his straight jacket and pushed him into his cell barefoot. This wasn't unusual, this happened to him at least once a week since he started under Dr. Spencer's therapy.

He faced the wall, pressing his feet against the cool stone, taking pleasure in the small delights he could. Leaning forward he pressed his forehead against the stone feeling it fight the fever he was experiencing. "Why is it so hot in here?" He grumbled to himself as he heard the cart being rolled down the hallway.

Edward dreaded it every time he heard that cart. He didn't need medicine, it wasn't right for him. He was perfect as he was. He wasn't insane, why didn't anyone see that?

"Time to take your medicine Edward..." The nurse came around a few minutes later.

"I don't need my medicine!" He yelled angrily through the bars of his cell as he hunched over more on his bed.

"Sure, sure, and I don't need time off." The old Spanish lady walked into his cell with help of the guards. "Open up Edward." She instructed, holding the tiny plastic cup and a cup of water in the other hand.

Edward glared at her. "Get away from me with those!"

She sighed with annoyance. "Does it have to be a fight every day, Eddie? Guards, make him cooperate."

One held him still while the other pinched his nose so he had to open up. Edward opened up his mouth and felt the pills enter his mouth before the water hit the back of his throat, making him swallow the cruel devices. The guards let go, watching him struggle and kick with his feet. "You're all incompetent! You can't even see that I don't need them!" He yelled angrily.

The nurse rolled her eyes and rolled on by with her cart. "Have a good day Eddie."

Edward leered after her, feeling the discomfort in his throat from swallowing the pills against his will. Lying on his back he stared up at the ceiling. He was tired but he couldn't sleep. Edward rarely slept most of his life. It wasn't something his body would allow him most of the time, and that caused dark circles to grow darker under his eyes over time.

The door of his cell opened catching his attention again as two of the guards walked in, "Nigma get up, its time for therapy."

He didn't like being ordered around like that. Edward was no servant, he wanted to be treated with some respect. "I don't feel like going to therapy. I'm sick." He said in a rude tone.

"Get up you piece of shit." The one guard grabbed him by one of the straps on his straight jacket, pulling him to his feet in seconds.

"Watch your mouth you degenerate ape!" Edward retorted, only to get hit in the side with the other officers baton.

He let out a painful howl as he tried to curl up instinctually, only to be pulled along down the hallway. "You show us some respect and no one gets hurt. Got it Nigma?" The one guard said in a rather cocky tone.

Edward said nothing, he just continued to seethe as he was pushed into Dr. Spencer's old office. He was greeted by a beautiful petite blonde woman in a light blue dress and lab coat. "Dr. Quinzel, Edward Nigma is ready for his session." The officer said in a completely different tone than he spoke to Edward in.

"Good. Let him sit down." She looked up over her oval glasses.

The guards attached him to her chair, "Call us if he gives you any trouble." The guard told her before leaving.

"Dr. Quinzel is it?" He looked up at her from his chair.

"Yes, Edward. It's nice to meet you." She said calmly looking up at him from over the clipboard she kept on her lap.

"So, they removed Dr. Spencer and gave me a blonde doctor... let's just see how well this goes over." He stated coldly.

Dr. Quinzel watched him shift around in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. "Mr. Nigma, there is no need to act that way simply because of my hair colour. You're a smart man aren't you? That's what your file says."

He didn't like being taunted, and despite her doing no such thing, he felt defensive. "Oh, you've read my file. Then you must know EVERYTHING about me." He leered up at her.

"Actually I don't know nearly enough considering Dr. Spencer worked with you for a year or more. He did very little delving into your mind. Clearly he was the wrong match for you." She looked over at him.

"Really now? So you think YOU are a better person for the job?" He let out a low chuckle. "Pardon me but, it sounds like you're in the right place if you think so."

"Why don't we just find out before we place judgement, alright Mr. Nigma?" She asked.

"Very well..." He couldn't argue here.

"Then let us begin." She adjusted her spectacles.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note:**Hey everyone I hope you like this new chapter, be sure to leave me a review if you did! More is coming don't worry kids!

Chapter 2

Dr. Quinzel noted Edwards apparent discomfort as he didn't sit still longer than a couple seconds at a time. "I wanted to start off with simple word association. Just say whatever words come to mind no matter what they are."

Edward already didn't like this game, it undermined his intellect. " pink channel hairspray lipstick Chihuahua mini skirt... I figured I'd say some words you might actually be able to grasp for starters doctor... nail polish, wax, cheerleading, tanning."

Dr. Quinzel disregarded this minor insult as stress on his part, "You may say any words that come to mind whether or not you think I'm able to grasp them."

Edward didn't like it when people didn't react to him, it made him feel a sense of defeat and that was something he didn't want. He decided to play along, and perhaps call her out on something later. " fire, ventilation, restraint, Lysol, bats, lab, neuroscience, philosophy, geometry, conundrum." These were all words that swarmed his brain most days.

"Good." She wrote a few notes on the clipboard before reaching into her desk.

Edward watched as Dr. Quinzel pulled out some white cards. "Next I want you to tell me what you see in each of these." She set on his side of her desk six inkblot tests.

Looking up at with complete lack of amusement, Edward stared for a second, "You really want to know what I see?"

"I do." She nodded watching him.

Edward looked at the inkblot tests. "I see ink on a plane white card. Next!"

Dr. Quinzel smiled a bit, "Yes, I expected this, Edward. Look at the shapes and tell me what you see."

"Doctor, this is a waste of my time. This won't tell you anything about me. One couldn't comprehend a mind like the one inside of my cranium... it would take one with the same brain to even come close." He furrowed his brows looking at her pointedly.

"The inkblot test isn't used to gather insight, Edward. I suppose you're already comfortable, so let's continue." She decided putting the cards away.

Edward watched her pull his file from her drawer and open it up. She glanced it over curiously. "

"Now that's just rude doctor. You should really have read my file before I came here. That's rather unprofessional of you." He leered.

"I've read it over multiple times Mr. Nigma, I just wanted to double check something..." She looked over his medication chart for a moment before looking back up at him.

He fidgeted a few more times feeling as though the room was on fire. "You're on Paxil." She said as if it were a question of authenticity.

Edward looked at her, "Yes, and I want off." He glared, "I don't need medication."

"I'll be the judge of whether or not you need to be on medication, but overall it doesn't seem like Paxil is helping you any. It seems to be making you irritable..." She trailed thinking, "I'm taking you off all your medications it for a week so I can reassess you."

He couldn't argue with that part at least. "Good." He shifted again.

"I know you don't like the straight jacket, but if you continue to keep control I'll eventually let you come to a session without it." She told him.

"Dr. Spencer never let me have a session without it." He looked at her, "He always thought I'd throw another chair at him."

Dr. Quinzel didn't appear as amused as he was, "I'll see how you behave. It doesn't seem like Dr. Spencer knew how to handle patients. Let's see if I can actually help you."

"No one can help me, because I don't need the help." He kept telling her.

She ignored this, "I think that'll be all for today Edward. You should get some rest. Guards! It's time to take him back!" She called.

The two from before came in and removed him from the chair, leading him out. "Take care Edward." She bid him.

He said nothing, very angry to be in the hands of the two goons. They shoved him into his cell again, and locked the door leaving him in his straight jacket. "Take me out of this thing!" He yelled through the bars.

"I demand to be out of this straight jacket at once!" He yelled angrily.

"Shut it Nigma before we leave it on tomorrow too!" The guard at the end of the hall called.

His arms felt numb, and he couldn't stand the feeling. "How can I sleep if I'm this uncomfortable! You tell me that!" He yelled angrily.

The guard walked over and whacked the bars with his baton. "That's enough Nigma, you either sit down and shut up or I'm hauling you off to solitary. Got it?" The guard glared at him.

Edward growled and lie down on the cot on his back. He stared at the ceiling for hours wishing the time would just pass by. He felt crazier now than he had when he arrived in Arkham. Dr. Quinzel was likely correct, it was his medication making him uncomfortable.

He had to give her credit for actually trying. She genuinely seemed to care. He'd give her a bit more of a chance, but he wouldn't hold back if she disappointed him. After all, he didn't expect anyone to be able to help him.

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	3. Chapter 3

Authors Note: I hope everyone is ready for a new installment! I'm excited to bring it to you all! Please read and review I love to hear from you! :D

**Chapter 3**

"This is Vicki Vale, coming to you live outside of Austin Newbury's home on Oak Street. New Year's Day wasn't a good day for everyone in town, especially not the Newbury family and Austin's girlfriend when the thirty-one-year-old was found dead around eight PM by his girlfriend Annabelle." A photo of Austin Newbury and his girlfriend sitting on a couch together showed on the activity room television set. "It has been reported that Mr. Newbury was bludgeoned to death, but sources say they aren't sure who might have done this as Mr. Newbury was a well liked man, and didn't appear to have any enemies. I'm Vicki Vale from the Gotham News Network."

Edward sat in his straitjacket, still being punished for punching Jervis in the face. It seemed Jervis took the hint and avoided him. Jervis was nowhere to be seen that day, at least not around Edward. He was glad to also note no one had forced any more pills down his throat, and it made him realize it was the Paxil that was giving him the hot flashes.

It seemed Edward's skin had stopped feeling enflamed, allowing him to feel the real temperature around Arkham Asylum for the first time since he first got there. He felt good, better than good. He felt wonderful being off the medication. He no longer wanted to make a new death trap and force the inmates of the Asylum, as well as the staff, through it.

The only thing Edward was slightly annoyed about was the fact he was a smoker, and they weren't allowing him any of his cigarettes. "Guard, I demand out of this pointless contraption." He looked towards the man standing a few meters away.

"Is that so?" The guard looked at him with annoyance.

"Yes! I'm a smoker, and I need my fix." He proclaimed.

"No one NEEDS to smoke. Now shut up." The guard turned his attention away.

Edward glared heatedly at the man. "I'm going through withdrawals! It's been three days!" He yelled angrily.

"I said shut it, Nigma!" The guard retorted angrily.

"Look, I don't need to be in this thing, I'm off my meds!" He argued.

The guard simply chuckled mockingly. "Because that statement makes you sound more sane..."

"I'm not crazy!" Edward yelled with frustration.

"Look at the comedian over here... you're hilarious Nigma." The guard took a few steps closer to Edward's chair, standing before him with the baton in one hand. "If I hear one more peep out of you, I'm hauling your ass off to solitary. Got it?"

Edward leered at the man. Was it going to be worth it? Would he regret it later? His mind didn't have time to compute as he kicked hard with his feet, kicking the guard in both knee caps as hard as he could muster, sending him to the floor before jumping up and attempting to run. Where was he running off to? He didn't have a plan, he was just running. The other guard in the room noticed Edward running for the hallway, and darted after him.

The thrill of running and the feeling of his heart beating rapidly in his chest sent a rush of excitement through him. He hadn't felt this way since he was last free. It was a short-lived feeling as another guard managed to coat hanger him on his way down the next hallway. Edward's head hit against the floor hard enough to knock him out cold.

When he came to he realized he was lying on a cot still in the straitjacket. He opened his eyes to look around but saw only darkness. Solitary. "N-no! Not here! Let me out of here!" He screamed as realization cut through him like a cold knife.

He had no idea what time it was or how long he had been out. He could hear the sounds of a few other inmates moaning and screaming, heightening his fear. What if the rumors were true? What if someone was going to beat him up? He shook a bit; no one was watching him, so he had nothing to hide.

It might have seemed crazy, even to Edward, but he hated not knowing what time it was. He hated wondering how long he'd be there. It wasn't fair, but he could do very little about it. How he wished he could simply sense the time.

Closing his eyes he decided it would be best to attempt sleep. For him it wasn't easy, but he would attempt to do so anyhow. Edward held his eyes closed as the minutes ticked by, or so he presumed. He felt sad, and he couldn't explain it; he had good reason to be, but he didn't have any specifications as to why. The room was cool and he welcomed it, especially after months of boiling skin.

Feet down the hallway sounded after what felt like hours. The feet seemed to stop, and the sound of a door opening caught Edward's attention. "No! Please no! I just want to get out!" A man screamed before the door was slammed shut.

Edward listened in horror as the muffled sound of a fist colliding with flesh and bone sounded in the next cell over. "Oh God..." Edward whispered as the rumors clearly were true.

The sounds seemed to echo in the darkness for an eternity, each minute making him feel increasingly ill. Finally the door creaked open, and the sound of whimpering could be heard before the door was closed again.

Edward listened as the footsteps stopped before another door. When the door opened there was silence, and then the door closed again. The sounds of punching and cynical laughing sounded; he was in the Joker's cell it seemed. "Is that all you've got Boles my boy?! Hahahaha!" Edward the blood drain from his face as more muffled sounds made it through to his ears.

The Joker seemed to take the beating as if it were a joke. Boles sounded agitated just listening to the insane clown. Why would he provoke him further? Did the beating not affect him at all?

When he left the Joker's cell he moved onto the one across from Edward. Another round of beating sounded, and the sounds of the door opening and closing echoed slightly. Edward heard his own door unlocking, much to his horror. The light on his room was switched on. He saw the cold eyes of Officer Boles before the door closed behind him.

Boles had bloody knuckles, but none of it was his own blood. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting the Riddler in person." He said in a rough voice.

"What are you going to do to me?" Edward felt his voice crack.

"Nothing the people of GothamCity wouldn't fully appreciate." He grabbed Edward by his straitjacket, knowing he was entirely defenceless.

Boles looked over his face. "You've got one ugly mug, you deathtrap-making bastard." With that Edward's jaw was met with a swift punch.

Edward panted heavily before groaning with pain. "Augh!" He yelled painfully.

"Here, let me fix that big ugly nose of yours." Before Edward could process a thought his nose made a sickening snap as it broke under Boles's hand.

Howling with pain Edward was dropped face down on the floor. Boles took out his baton and began beating his squirming body for another twenty minutes, before finally leaving Edward bruised and bloody on the ground.

Edward couldn't sniffle without tasting his own blood. His eyes were glistening with tears. Even in school he'd never taken a beating quite that bad, and if he did he could either defend himself or run away. Both choices weren't an option for him in that straitjacket.

He listened as a few other patients were beaten before he closed his eyes again, resting wearily on the stone cold floor. Perhaps he would bleed to death and that would be the end of him. He could only hope so. He just wanted the pain to stop.

What did he do to deserve this?

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